Remember Me
by Jaxa
Summary: Meet the darker side of Psi Corps but even there you might find people who care...


**Remember Me**

© by Jaxa (jaxa@psicorps.com), March 11, 2001   
(Revised version, March 12, 2001) 

_This story was inspired by "In the Darkness", a Babylon 5 story by Susan Alexander._

  


I'm sitting on a bed, there are no blankets. I'd like to take a look at the sky, but there isn't a window. I'd like to go outside, but they locked the door. 

I don't know why I'm here. Maybe I know, but I don't want to think about it. 

  
They came last night, when I was asleep. It's my fault, I wasn't careful enough. But you've got to sleep sometime, don't you? 

They didn't hurt me, not really. They just handcuffed me, searched me, and then they took me outside. Despite the shock, or maybe because of it, I was too sleepy to resist when they pushed me forward through the remnants of the wooden door. I blinked in the sudden brightness. There were several cars, highlighting the street with flashing lights. When I was able to see clearly again, I noticed Psi Cops and Bloodhounds, all wearing Psi Corps uniforms. I was too scared to cry. 

I don't remember much of the way to this place. I was sitting in the back of one of those sleek black cars with a white Psi on each door, with two Psi Cops in front of me, and one Psi Cop next to me. The windows were all black. I couldn't see the stars. 

I've been in this room for 13 hours now. They didn't take my watch away, just my life. I wanted to take my life myself, but I don't know how. I searched the bathroom, but I couldn't find any razors. 

I don't want them to take me away. That's what they do when they catch you. They tell you that they don't want to hurt you - that's true. They just kill Me, not my body. 

I'm scared. 

  
I think I hear footsteps. My arms are wrapped around my legs. I'm shaking, but I don't want to cry. 

The door opens. They're coming in. 

*** 

She was sitting on the bed, just as they had expected her to be. There were monitors on each side of the room, they knew what she'd been doing all those 13 hours. They had been watching, taking notes, analyzing her. Now it was time. 

She looked young, scared, fragile. A pity, almost. 

One of them, the leader, took another step forward. She stared at him, eyes wide with fear. But she didn't cry, didn't plead. Just stared. 

Those were the toughest ones, the smartest ones. They knew that there was no way to resist, that fighting them was futile. 

She was shaking heavily now, he could see the white knuckles and her clenched fists. Trying to be strong, and still weak. 

She was strong, a P10. But not strong enough. Not against two trained Psi Cops. He thought briefly that it would be better if she didn't fight them. 

Suddenly she looked at him directly, eye to eye. "You're going to brainwash me, aren't you? Make me trust you, trust the Corps, even if I don't want to, even if I hate you." 

There was no need to lie. He nodded simply. 

"Will you wipe me?" 

So she'd heard of the Program. He nodded again. 

She let go of her legs, sitting upright now. Trying to keep her dignity. "There's no other way, is there?" 

No, there wasn't. He shook his head. 

"I won't fight you. You will win anyways, I know. You always do." Beaten. 

She hesitated. "Would you do me a favor?" 

Surprise. This hadn't happened before. They'd plead for mercy, they'd rage, they'd try to kill themselves or others, but they never asked for a favor. He looked at her questioningly. 

"Will you remember me? The real Me?" 

Irritation. He waited. 

"My name is Rahel Michaels. I liked to write poems, I wanted to publish a book one day. I loved cloudy skies and the sound of birds singing. I loved the smell of grass and looking at the stars. I dreamt of flying to the moon one day. Will you remember that?" Her voice cracked, then she continued softly. "Please?" 

Mercy? Maybe. He nodded slowly. 

She got up, following him outside. He lead her to a another room, empty but for one chair. She sat down. They attached her hands and her head to the cold iron bars. 

One single tear rolled down her pale cheek. 

Silently they started. The girl was shivering, but forced to sit still by the restraints. She gasped once, and then it was silent again. 

He put his gloves back on. She was unconscious now. Two more hours, and she'd wake up. Loyal to the Corps, loyal to her new family. 

The Corps is mother, the Corps is father, he thought silently. 

On his way out he took a short look out of a window he passed. The sky was cloudy and he briefly thought he could hear the birds singing in the trees. 

"I'll remember you, Rahel Michaels", he whispered softly as he stepped outside. 


End file.
